Faber et Filia
by Hoenn Master96
Summary: A single act can change the course of one's life; be it an act of charity, or one of evil. When a lonely man saves a young girl from certain death, it begins a series of extraordinary events he never imagined could happen to him. A contemplative look into the world of R.W.B.Y.
1. Chapter One

Faber et Filia

(The Blacksmith and the Young Girl)

An R.W.B.Y. Fan-Fiction

Written by Hoenn Master, and edited by dashboardgecko

"A strong man stands up for himself. A _stronger_ man stands up for others." Ben- Barnyard (Yes. I'm going there.)

**Disclaimer: I do not under any circumstance possess the setting of this story; it is the property of Rooster Teeth. If I did own it, it would likely be significantly worse than it is today. I also do not own the character of Blair, who belongs to Wishmur Publishing House.**

* * *

It was cold. It was not an average coldness, either, but rather, the kind of cold in which one can feel it seeping into his very bones, no matter how thick one's clothing. The crunches of wheels over dead leaves, along with the steady clopping of horse's hooves, were the only things to break the silence which had fallen upon the Forest of Forever Fall.

A single, horse-drawn carriage, filled with supplies, was the only thing moving in the stillness and silence, apart from the swaying branches and the dancing leaves. A lone traveler with a thick cloak wrapped tightly around his body and the pair of horses drawing the heavy wagon behind them were the only living beings in sight. With a sigh, a cloud of steam escaping his hood, the traveler slipped an icy string of beads into his cloak pocket, and spoke to his horses in a deep, soothing tone.

"How are you two holding up, eh?"

The horses, of course, remained silent except for their snorting as they carried on, but the traveler was used to that.

"Well, at least you're warmer than I am. Still, this mist isn't letting up; I guess we've gone pretty far north by now..."

Just as the traveler finished the sentence, a snap and a loud scream rent the air, startling both of the horses. After a few frightening seconds of bolting, their master managed to calm them down, and without another word, leapt off of the cart, his black cloak trailing behind as his heavy boots sprinted across the frosty ground towards the scream. With quick, quiet movements, the man picked his way through the thick trees just off of the path, the only sound being made above the noise of the forest being the occasional crunch of a small pile of dead leaves.

After a couple of minutes of searching, the traveler was beginning to conclude that he must have heard things. He was just placing his hand on the grip of a large, heavy caliber pistol which rested on his hip just above the sheathe of a plain looking sword, and prepared to go back and defend the cart from possible bandits. He had hardly taken a step, however, when he spotted a clearing filled with about half a dozen of the largest black creatures of Grimm he'd ever seen.

They were made of the purest black; the traveler's own cloak looked grey in comparison, even. The impossible darkness was only broken by terrifyingly white and red mask-like growths on their faces, oddly-placed spikes of matching color lining their forelegs, and massive claws which could rend flesh as easily as a white hot knife through warm butter.

The truly grisly scene, however, was not the creatures themselves, though they ordinarily would be.

No, instead of the monsters themselves, in the center of the clearing lay three bodies: a large, barrel-chested man, with thick brown hair stained with blood; a woman with equally brown hair in a flyaway style, with a gaping hole in her stomach, staining the ground a more sickening red than the leaves could ever have done; and between them, a little girl, no more than nine, crying her eyes out silently.

An Ursa, one of the great number of the dark creatures surrounding the little girl, strode up to finish the family off.

The traveler never gave it the chance, however.

With a whoosh of displaced air, the figure leapt out of the trees, catching the monsters off guard, and with a flash of steel and fire, drew a straight long sword. It was plain in design, the hilt undecorated aside from the deep blue leather grip and the small chamber containing a red crystal at the base of the blade. With a shout and a burst of speed, the sword burst into blue flames and the figure charged into the center of the clearing, cutting down one of the shadows as he made his way to stand over the terrified girl.

"If you want to kill any more people, it'll have to be me before anyone else! Come get some!" the figure shouted in a deep, bellowing voice.

The Ursa, which had been too surprised to fight back until that moment, all began rushing in. Without a second's hesitation, the figure gripped the sword all the tighter, and suddenly the same blue flames which enveloped the sword danced across first the arm holding it, then the chest, and finally the entire body was coated in flames. With a primal roar, the figure, almost moving faster than the untrained eye could follow, leaped from enemy to enemy, not allowing even one to get closer than ten feet of the decimated family.

Two Ursa tried to attack at the same time from opposite ends of the circle of protection the traveler was weaving. Thinking quickly, he took one of his hands off of the hilt of his sword, dancing out of the way of the massive claws coming down upon where he was a second before, and, pulling out the heavy caliber pistol from its holster and taking aim, fired three rounds in rapid succession at the charging beast on the other side of the clearing.

The resulting explosions sent the off-balance beast to the ground, where it fumbled to get back upright. Sensing the opportunity, the second Ursa brought down its claws once again, this time meeting the edge of the traveler's hood, almost catching his face and shredding the hood to ribbons.

The man stood, an angry expression written across his wintry blue eyes and somewhat thick, dirty blonde eyebrows. However, the Ursa didn't have time to register this, as the man charged forward and drove his sword into its neck and pulled back. The action ripped its short skull in half length-wise. Instead of blood, however, the figure dissolved into cobalt blue ashes, which scattered in the freezing breeze. The man, however, didn't wait for this process to complete, instead charging at the Ursa he'd slowed down. It had risen to its feet, and was bringing down a massive paw to smite the cowering girl.

The blow never landed.

With a great grunt of effort, the sandy blonde held his sword over his head, the weapon bending almost comically to hold back the weight of the blow, but it stubbornly refused to break. The flames along the warrior himself began to vanish as he lost energy in the losing battle, rapidly becoming too tired to increase his strength and speed. With a strained grunt, the traveler tilted his sword downwards, causing the full weight of the Ursa to slide sideways, once again falling onto its side. This time, the warrior didn't turn to fight another opponent, but picked up his pistol from where he'd dropped it, and unloaded the rest of the clip right into the flailing shadow's temple, killing it instantly.

The warrior panted from exertion, and dropped to one knee, keeping a steady eye upon the last three Ursa, which were circling dangerously around them. Acting instinctively, the stranger placed his hands on the ground, quickly reloaded his pistol, and began to concentrate.

Soon, a dark patch of dead grass and dirt began to spread around the blonde man as the little girl sobbed into her parent's bodies. The Ursa, sensing a shift in the balance of power, all charged at once, causing the girl to scream in terror. With another roar, the blonde leapt to his feet, and brought his hands together, arcs of cobalt energy passing between his thickly gloved fingers like a Jacob's ladder. Almost instantly, several baseball-sized spheres of energy appeared in his hands, which he threw at the oncoming enemies with deadly accuracy. Each of the spheres either hit just in front of, or directly on, the Ursa, stumbling them and granting the traveler enough time to pick up his sword and pistol.

With a loud series of clicks and whirrs, the pistol began to transform into a flare-gun-sized revolver. The six chambers ejected the now too-small bullets, and instead, the blonde loaded what were essentially grenades into them. With a shout, he braced his arm and fired as quickly as he could, launching all six massive red explosives at the Ursas within a couple of seconds.

A fine red cloud hung over the decimated area not eight feet from the little girl, who had fainted in the fright of the moment. Immediately, the gun reduced its caliber, and the warrior reloaded the dropped bullets. Then, he slowly edged towards the crater he'd made. Inside were the dissolving remains of the Ursa, though one remained alive. It was clearly wounded severely, and a quick bullet down the creature's ear ended its misery.

After making sure all of the other monsters were dead, the mysterious traveler sighed, looking at the decimated family once again. "I'm sorry I couldn't find you sooner," the man whispered to the dead parents, his voice now laced with sorrow instead of rage.

The girl, who he had initially worried had died due to the amount of blood on her dress, was safe, sleeping between the bodies of the two who gave their lives to protect her.

Still, it hadn't occurred to the stranger until that very moment what to do with the child. Initially, he had only had to goal of protecting people in mind, but now he wasn't sure what to do. Yes, he knew he'd have to care for the child, at least until he could get her to an orphanage; it would be counterproductive and evil to leave her to fend for herself and be killed by something else. So, with a resigned heart, he took off his cloak and draped it over the sleeping girl, and set her aside to rest while he dug what he assumed to be her parents' graves.

Upon turning the woman over, however, he noticed a small bundle at her feet, and, with a lurch of sickening realization, that an almost newborn infant lay dead under her skirts. The hardened warrior, who had both seen and dealt out death before, upon seeing the baby's sickeningly disfigured face, turned and retched into the crater where the ashes of the shadows lay, a feeling of the deepest sorrow wrenching his gut painfully.

Once he had settled himself, and had retrieved his cart to get tools to mournfully dig the graves, the man placed the bodies of the girl's family into them with all the respect he could give. Just as he was about to start filling them in, though, he looked at the little girl, who was beginning to stir from her slumber. The traveler sighed, and stood in front of the girl and waited until she fully awakened with a frightened squeak.

"W-who are you?! Where's my mom and dad?!" the girl's voice was somewhat lower than the man expected, but then again, he'd only heard her scream in terror.

"My name is Richard Brown, young lady," the man introduced himself solemnly. "As for your parents, they are resting on the other side of my wagon."

The little girl got up quickly and looked suspiciously at the very tall sandy blonde man. His eyes were of a grey blue, but there was also a hint of green near the pupils. The sword and pistol on his right hip, however, put her on edge, as well as the silvery blue scarf covering his face. "Why am I over here instead of with them?"

Richard sighed sadly, and motioned to the girl's side, which had become uncovered and exposed the swathe of blood. "Your parents… Died in the fighting. I couldn't save them, or your brother. I'm sorry."

The little girl looked absolutely devastated, and for good reason. "N-no! You're lying! Daddy is strong! He's fought the Grimm forever! And mommy helped him, too, even though she just had Hilbert! Let me see them!" her voice was rapidly becoming hysterical, and Richard, being a kind hearted man, allowed the girl to sprint to her family's graves and see them.

He kept her a reasonable distance back, though, as he didn't want the child to hurt herself.

* * *

It took several cold, depressing hours to get the girl to allow Richard to bury her family, but once that was done, he built a fire and heated a stew, but not before heating some cocoa for the shivering girl and giving it to her. She wouldn't drink it, although she held it to her body to keep warm. At any other time, Richard would have been impressed with the girl's intelligence, but the sun was going down, and it was only going to get colder in this extreme northern stretch of the forest.

"Listen, young lady," Richard started kindly, "I need you to drink that before it gets cold; you're going to freeze to death tonight if you don't."

Spotting the even more suspicious glare she sent him, Richard held his hand out for the mug. "Alright, if you want, I'll drink out of it first, so you know there's no poison in it, alright?"

The girl looked untrusting, but reluctantly handed the mug back to Richard, who took a large sip. "Ah, thank you. Now do you believe me?"

The girl looked satisfied, and began gulping the hot drink down. Thankfully, it wasn't still scalding, but the perfect temperature for drinking.

Realizing that he didn't know this girl's name, he asked, kindly, "And what is your name, young lady?"

The girl slowly lowered the drained mug, a mustache of chocolate left behind from how fast she had drunk the beverage as she did so. At any other time, the scene would have been cute, but the thick tear tracks and depressed face only served to heighten the sense of depression emanating from the girl. "My name is Blair Litchenburg."

Richard nodded kindly, gently taking the mug from the traumatized girl. "That's a pretty name, Miss Litchenburg. Would you care for some stew?"

The brown haired girl simply bit her lip and shook her head. Richard understood; he didn't have much of an appetite either, and surely Blair felt many times worse than he did. Regardless, there was one final order of business for the blonde warrior to take care of.

"Miss Litchenburg, I know you may not wish to, but I must bring you with me for the time being."

Blair froze in place, the distrustful glare locked firmly back into place. "Why?"

Richard had expected this type of reaction, and didn't miss a beat. "Because I cannot simply leave you behind now that your family is gone. If I were to do that, it would have been better to leave you to die in the first place."

The way he spoke about death was distant, and some would likely say cruel to someone who had experienced so keen a loss that recently. However, the man wasn't one to skirt around issues if flat honesty would achieve the same result in a shorter amount of time.

Blair looked at Richard with eyes that swam with tears, and the blonde privately wondered if he'd been too direct in dealing with the situation. Still, the young girl spoke with a voice which echoed nothing but pain and sadness. "Maybe I _want_ to die… There's nobody who'll want me, anyway," Tears began spilling over her eyelids, and they only seemed to grow in number as time went on.

Richard didn't pry any deeper; he now knew enough to guess that either her village cast her out, along with her family, or her village had been decimated by the Grimm. Still, he couldn't let a child start thinking like that; if she did, he didn't want to picture the outcome. Doing the only thing he could think of, he inched closer to the sobbing girl, and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Don't think that, Miss Litchenburg. I'll find a place where you'll always be loved and taken care of. Who wouldn't want a beautiful little girl like you?"

Blair slowed down her crying slightly and mumbled something as she wiped her eyes before asking softly, "Do you promise?"

The sheer weight of that question was not lost on the young man, and without hesitation, he knew what his answer was to be: "I promise."

Then the brown haired girl looked up at the man with absolute sincerity, and asked, "Pinky swear?"

Richard could only smile wanly at the pain and uncertainty in the request, but regardless, he linked his pinky with the girl's outstretched digit and shook their hands. "Pinky swear. Now, you need to go to sleep. We need to get up early tomorrow if we hope to make the nearest city by the day after tomorrow."

* * *

_**A.N.: Oh, look; it's another fan-fiction from Hoenn Master! Does this mean he's given up on his other stories?**_

_**No. No I have not.**_

_**I recently have become absolutely obsessed with R.W.B.Y. lately, and, as I have better things to do with my life, I decided that I could put them off to make a teaser story of sorts to test the waters for my next big idea in a new fandom. I won't be giving spoilers, but I think I've hit gold while talking to my good friend, Wishmur Publishing House, who insisted that I write this to the point that I was responding to her messages every five minutes, if not sooner, while I was writing it.**_

_**Regardless, this is, by a fair amount, the longest thing I've written yet, and I have to say, I'm glad I managed to get 2,700 words out this time. My only hope is that I can capture the feel that Rooster Teeth has managed to craft in their amazing tale.**_

_**Finally, I want to give a massive thank you to dashboardgecko, who has helped me along immensely by beta reading this for me, as well as providing insightful commentary on all of my stories.**_

_**Signed: Hoenn Master, forever a patriot.**_


	2. Chapter Two

Faber et Filia Chapter Two

An R.W.B.Y. Fan-Fiction

Written by Hoenn Master, and edited by dashboardgecko

"In the darkness, we become what we most fear and revile; in God's light, we become what we are truly meant to be." -Myself

* * *

The morning dawned all too quickly for Richard's tastes, the alarm clock he'd set blaring to life with a loud ring. The blonde turned over in his sleeping bag to look at the small, one person tent he'd lent to his new passenger, sighing in annoyance as he did so. After a few more seconds of the alarm going off, Richard shut off the device to prepare an early breakfast as the sun peeked over the treetops.

In one fluid motion, Richard rolled out of his bedroll to his feet, his sword clenched tightly in his grip as he scanned the area for Grimm. Thankfully, there were none, and everything was in its place just as he'd left it the previous night. With a chuckle at the paranoia he'd developed while traveling, Richard quickly put on a fresh set of clothes and was just planning on rebuilding the fire when a thought struck him: Blair had no spare clothes.

He'd looked through her family's belongings after the battle, but most of it was either shredded by the Ursa, or else covered in blood and unusable. He'd deliberated hard on taking what little jewelry the family owned, but eventually decided that everything of theirs rightfully belonged to Blair, being the only living member of the family remaining.

Regardless, all of the clothes that weren't absolutely tattered were soaked with blood and the pungent stench of death. Needless to say, Richard had thrown them onto the fire immediately. But, the problem still remained that Blair had nothing to wear. Richard absent-mindedly built a fire canopy over the few coals remaining and fed it small doses of his Aura energy to bolster it, while he decided that Blair would simply have to wear some of his clothing for the time being. It wasn't ideal, but it was certainly better than wearing a blood-soaked dress until they got to a town, especially since that would only cause her to remember yesterday's battle.

A sudden jolt of pain returned him to the task at hand just in time to pull his hands away from the rapidly growing fire. Richard hissed in pain for a moment, then chuckled and shook his hands out to relieve the burning sensation before retrieving some left over stew, getting everything in order for a quick breakfast.

Once the food was simmering in a pot suspended over the fire, the blonde man faced another obstacle: getting Blair awake and changed into the clothes he had waiting in the cart. Figuring there was no way around it, he called Blair's name through the tent walls until he heard the rustling of a body getting up and moving around in the small space.

Richard spoke in a direct, but gentle, manner. "Good morning, Miss Litchenburg; it's time to get up and have breakfast."

The brunette girl simply poked her head out of the flap of the tent, her hair sticking up at odd angles and an ugly look in her eyes. She had clearly been up until very late at night, either from crying, or some other reason, Richard wasn't sure. "I don't wanna eat. I'm not hungry."

Undaunted, the blonde pressed on. "Alright, but you won't be able to eat until lunch if you don't. Anyway, I have a change of clothes here for you. I figured you'd want to get out of that bloodied dress and into something warmer."

The young girl simply looked at the neatly folded pile of clothes, consisting of a thick woolen coat, a warm looking hat with fur-lined ear flaps, rolled up sweat pants, and heavy socks that looked like they'd go up past her knees if she put them on. "Nuh uh. I won't put those on."

_"She went from depression to defiance? Or, is this just an outlet for her feelings? Guess I'll just have to deal with it…"_ Richard thought confusedly, one of his eyebrows rising.

"I'll go to the other side of the clearing if you want. Please believe me; I have no intention of peeking."

Blair simply glared at Richard. "No. I don't want your clothes!"

Richard calmly brought his right palm to his face, and sighed in exasperation before returning his attention to the still glaring girl before him. "Miss Litchenburg, those are warmer than your dress, and besides, I can't bring you to town with you soaked in blood. That would only cause trouble, not to mention the fact that you'd be cold the entire time."

At that, Blair took another long look at the clothes as Richard laid them at her feet and took a few steps back. Finally, the blonde dropped the straw that broke the camel's back. "If you get changed, I'll let you ride the horses for as long as you want while we're traveling."

Blair's eyes automatically flicked to the two handsome chestnut Clydesdales hitched to the cart and tossing their manes to keep flies off one another. After a few more seconds, the brunette sighed and leaned out of the tent just far enough to pick up the clothes, pulling them in, and remaining silent as the flap zipped closed.

Richard sighed, be it from relief or frustration, he couldn't be certain, and opened up the pot of stew, taking off his scarf after drawing out a bowlful and retrieving a thick slice of bread from a bag in his cart. He sat down near the fire and took a few moments to say grace before digging into the meal, careful not to burn his tongue. Just as the blonde man scraped the last of the stew onto what was left of his bread and popped it into his mouth, Blair stepped out of the tent dressed in the oversized clothes Richard had lent her.

Thankfully, Blair seemed to have composed herself; her eyes were still misty, and she still didn't look like she'd had enough sleep, but she was at least making an effort to overcome the nigh insurmountable task before her. Richard maintained a neutral expression and nodded, acknowledging her presence. "Do you feel like eating now, Miss Litchenburg? Or would you prefer to wait longer?"

Blair only bit her lip in response and strode over to the cart before getting into the seat without a word. Richard sighed and dumped a bucket filled with dirt onto the fire, smothering it. Then, he grabbed what small amount of stew was left, and dumped it into the hole where the bucket's dirt originated. Finally, Richard picked up the almost empty water skin he'd just been drinking out of, and scoured out the pot with the last of the water he'd allowed himself.

Once his task was accomplished, Richard quickly broke camp: the tent was folded in short order, the fire was double checked to make sure it was really out, the bedding was rolled up, and everything was stored tightly in a compartment under the seat. After locking the last box firmly in place, Richard climbed into the front of cart, not entirely surprised to see Blair curled up with her knees to her chin on the other side of the comfortable bench. With a short whistle and a wave of the long whip lying in a holder on his side, Richard started the wagon at a moderate pace, soon leaving the clearing behind and finding the road again. Richard heard Blair sniffle and wipe her eyes silently, prompting the blonde to place a comforting hand on her shoulder for a moment before returning his attention to the road.

An oppressive silence fell between the two travelers with nothing but the sound of crunching leaves under horse's hooves and the wheels of the wagon to break it. Blair remained in a fetal position, the only sound she would make was an occasional sniffle, as well as small tears occasionally escaping her control and running down her face. Richard, however, rarely noticed this, as was always on his guard; he'd been ambushed more than once by bandits, and while he knew that the Ursa usually kept them at bay, that didn't discount the Ursa themselves as a threat. The young orphan sitting next to him was proof of that.

Thankfully, however, nothing happened for the rest of the day.

Just as the sun began to sink low into the west, however, a beautiful sight greeted the pair's eyes: far off in the distance, just over the treetops to the far southwest, stood the city of Vale in all of its shining glory. Richard, who was used to the sight of great cities, Vale in particular, was more concerned with how light his pockets were. After all, he'd left less than a week before, and hadn't been able to sell his products as well as he'd hoped in the next market on his list. Still, the police forces might be interested in some of his Dust products, though he doubted that very much, considering the Schnee Company's monopoly over the market.

Richard shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts. He needed to make camp. With a sigh, he stopped the horses near a clearing and quickly helped Blair out of the wagon. Though the blonde had tried to get the girl to speak, his attempts had fallen awkwardly flat, resulting in a mutual feeling of being drained of energy between the two. Thankfully, once the camp had been set and the dinner cooked, Blair finally accepted some food, and the two dug in heartily without a word.

* * *

The next morning, after Richard broke camp and had put away the last tent peg, Blair tugged at his sleeve. The blonde man blinked in surprise and looked at the girl, who, while still clearly depressed, didn't look quite so devastated now. "Yes, Miss Litchenburg? Did you need something?"

Blair looked somewhat uncomfortable, but pressed on. "Could I ride on one of the horses, Richard?"

Said blonde was taken aback for a moment, but quickly nodded. "Of course: let me help you onto Francis, as he's the most gentle of the pair."

With that, Richard boosted the brunette onto the massive horse's back, letting her settle before he got into the cart and started the team.

The day passed in a much more relaxed setting than the previous one had. Blair, who seemed to have relaxed somewhat, began acting more like a nine year-old than a shell-shocked war veteran, occasionally asking when they would be there, and requesting something to drink, which Richard gladly gave whenever she did.

By early afternoon, they passed the sign proclaiming that they were within Vale's city limits, and soon the air transitioned from light, fresh, and lively, to heavy with exhaust, fried goods, and the smell of population. The trees rapidly fell away until only lamp posts and the occasional tree were around them. As soon as they transferred from the dirt road to asphalt, Richard had Blair come down from her horse. Then, he spoke with caution in his voice, "Welcome to Vale, Blair, where caution must be taken at every turn. I want you to stay close to me while we're here."

Startled by the very serious tone in the tall man's voice, Blair nodded hesitantly as she sat down on the bench. "O-okay."

Richard nodded approvingly. "Good. We're heading into the residential district first to find a place to stay for the moment, and then, I'll begin looking for somewhere for you to live. Does that sound good to you?"

Blair looked uncomfortable, but responded. "Okay…" Richard took the lackluster response as born from residual trauma, and didn't comment.

Once they entered the city, however, Blair could not contain her amazement; the many colors reflected in the glass walls of office buildings, the seemingly impossible architecture in various business and residential areas, not to mention the sheer noise all served to command the brown haired girl's attention. Richard, however, saw very different things: he saw poor people in the alleyways living in cardboard boxes, men poised to rob the first person they thought looked weak, and a lack of community which was so important to the villages less than a day away through the forests.

Richard began looking around carefully, without locking eyes with anyone in the slowly increasing flow of traffic; he knew better than to draw attention to himself in such a busy place. Soon, however, the noise, combined with the constant motion, heat, and smell, began to make Blair feel a little queasy, and she scooted closer to Richard.

Thankfully, they soon found a decent hotel which could take care of Richard's horses. While not a common form of travel in Vale, the outer hotels were at least equipped to cater to the more traditionally minded travelers who came from more remote areas inside the kingdom, where technology hadn't quite caught up yet.

Once that was accomplished, Richard put on a pair of dark wraparound sunglasses and brought Blair back out into the crowded sidewalks, keeping a firm hold on her as he did so to prevent them from becoming separated. It was a good thing Blair was holding onto him as well, too, because with all of the jostling bodies, the brunette girl quickly became confused and disoriented, Richard's arm being the only thing that made any sense to her.

Eventually, they diverted into the doorway of a small Dust shop by the name of _'From Dust, Till Dawn'_ to get out of the crowd for a few minutes. The shop, as its name implied, was a late-night venue, and was therefore locked at that hour, but the outlet the door provided was a welcome reprieve nonetheless. Once they had taken their breather, they continued their trek into the city.

It seemed, however, that fate was conspiring against them.

At first, the crowd was held up with something only a short distance away, and several voices were yelling. Then, a woman screamed and suddenly people were scrambling away from the scene. With terrifying speed, gunfire started to rip through the air not far from where the crowd had been moments ago. Richard and Blair were pinned between people retreating and the people pressing forward behind them to see what the commotion was about. In that awful moment, Richard's grip on Blair slackened, and they were forced apart, the blonde swallowed by the crowd as Blair was shunted towards the fighting.

Richard felt something inside of him break; a foreign desire beyond mere concern burned through him the instant Blair's body slipped through his fingers. With a shout of fury and fear, Richard clawed desperately at the apathetic mass of bodies, shoving people out of the way, and even outright punching a man who dared to block his path intentionally. The blow sent the large man to the ground clawing at his face in agony before his sneering face could even formulate the word, 'no'.

After what felt like an eternity, Richard managed to desperately fight his way back to the scene of the shootout now taking place. There were around twelve men total involved; most of them had guns and were spraying bullets everywhere, while the others were supporting their comrades with melee attacks or otherwise rampaging around, trying to flank one another and cause as much damage as possible. The worst part by far, though, was not the battle itself, but rather, the fact that a certain brown haired girl was struggling against the hold of one of the fighters, a young man wearing a sleeveless shirt and baggy cargo pants, using her as a human shield.

With a roar of pure rage and a savage snarl on his face at the display of cowardice, Richard drew his sword and charged into the fray. Immediately, both sides began firing at him, but Richard had already put up a powerful Aura shield around himself, causing the Dust bullets to explode harmlessly on impact, and their mundane counterparts to simply ricochet off of it. However, only a few rounds were fired from either side before Richard was upon the man holding Blair hostage.

The moment he saw Richard coming at him, a flaming sword in his hand and a large gun on his belt, with a demonic expression seething around the his sunglasses, the combatant threw Blair into the middle of the fray in a panic and tried to draw the common Dust sword at his side. The action was futile, though; Richard suddenly began moving so fast that he was nearly impossible to see, even to trained eyes, and before the blade had even moved an inch out of its sheath, he was lifted up into the air by the throat; a grip of iron and an unnatural sensation of his strength being drained soon overwhelmed him.

"You think using little girls as a shield is acceptable?! I'LL RIP YOUR HEART OUT YOU COWARDLY SACK OF FILTH!" And without so much as a pause to watch the sheer terror flood into the eyes of the quickly dying man, Richard drove the full thirty six inches of his longsword into the man's heart, killing him instantly. The flames from his sword quickly evaporated the blood and cauterized the wound when he removed the weapon from the body. With a loud click, the Dust chamber located at the base of the blade opened up and ejected a spent flame crystal, causing the sword to immediately lose its flaming properties. Richard, with a practiced ease, selected a yellow electricity crystal from one of a number of small pouches on his belt and inserted it into the chamber. The click of the chamber's locking mechanism instantly caused cobalt blue sparks to emit along the blade, rather than flames.

The entire event took only half a minute, but both sides were instantly shaking in terror as the intimidating warrior charged back into the fight, bullets pinging off of his Aura shield as he systematically pistol whipped or used the flat of his blade to knock out all of the participants of the battle with extreme prejudice. By the time the police arrived, just five minutes after the fight had broken out, Richard had already knocked out the last participant, and was waiting patiently for their arrival. Blair, who was understandably terrified, was hanging onto Richard's side for dear life, crying her eyes out as he gently stroked her long hair with one hand, and kept the other ready on his sword hilt. Still, the blonde warrior was grateful that Blair hadn't seen him kill the man who had been holding her; he didn't want her to witness the side of him which could kill without remorse or mercy.

The police, who didn't know the situation, cautiously approached the pair, and Richard put his hands on the top of his head after motioning Blair to do the same to indicate their innocence. One officer moved towards the dead man, but soon backed off when he saw the charred remains of the wound Richard had inflicted upon him. Thankfully for the blonde warrior, one of the men on the side opposing the dead man's had a heavy caliber Dust rifle he'd been using, and the police simply assumed the wound came from that. Regardless, Richard and Blair were taken aside for questioning and separated, albeit with difficulty, as Blair didn't want to leave Richard's side.

The officer who took Richard aside was clearly an experienced, no-nonsense member of the force. "Now, tell me what happened, and what possessed you to go up against two rival gangs in the area."

Richard then elaborated the entire episode to the officer, and explained that he had become involved when one of the combatants kidnapped Blair to use as a human shield, and that he'd killed him defending Blair's escape. The officer nodded and assured Richard that he'd done nothing wrong considering the circumstances, and then walked away to the scene of the crime. It wasn't much longer before Blair, too, was released, and the brunette immediately latched herself to Richard's side and refused to let go.

Richard sighed in resignation, as the reality of the situation fully sunk into his mind; after all, he'd never be able to forget the feeling of terror that turned his blood to ice the moment he'd felt Blair be pulled from his grip.

_"God, what do you want me to do now?"_

* * *

_**A.N.**_

_**Well, that was a thing. Ladies and gentlemen, the lovely 'T' rating will be used to full effect, here, so events like this, while they won't be common, will still occur fairly often.**_

_**Again, a big thanks to Wishmur Publishing House for pushing me to complete this in a timely fashion, and to dashboardgecko for his invaluable input. I might be a while with the next chapter, as I have another story to take care of before this one.**_

_**Signed: Hoenn Master, forever a patriot**_


	3. Chapter Three

Faber et Filia Chapter Three

An R.W.B.Y. Fan-Fiction

Written by Hoenn Master, edited by dashboardgecko

"It is easy to be brave behind a castle wall." – Welsh Proverb

* * *

A week after the gang incident, Richard at long last managed to locate a suitable orphanage for Blair. Though he refused to admit it out loud to her, as that would only hurt the grieving brunette more than she already was, the tall blonde had already become very fond of the short little girl.

To be perfectly honest, that deeply unsettled him.

He was a traveler, with an uncertain job, and little to no stability at best; what would he know of taking care of a child, at any rate? While he had no regrets or reservations about taking care of Blair for a short period of time, in a long term environment, actually adding the personal title of 'father' to his list of responsibilities was not something he was really ready or equipped for. He held no illusions as to the idea that Blair would never truly see him as her father, but in his own mind, he would be exactly that, no matter what. He'd never even had time to find a girl to date in the four years he'd been wandering alone, and now it seemed his heart had turned traitor and was trying to convince him not to leave his charge in the care of strangers. The worst part was, it was working… To a degree.

After all, he was still a hardened warrior, despite the fact that he hadn't even turned twenty yet, and he didn't want that to be the framework for a little girl's life, any more than he'd wanted it for himself; which brought the topic back onto leaving Blair at a good orphanage in Vale.

It was a fairly dreary morning. Vale, being a city built upon natural harbors, was subject to the fickle weather of the ocean. While the locals were used to such weather, there were still fewer people on the sidewalks than there had been the last couple of days, allowing for much easier walking. However, the weather seemed to match Richard's mood as he escorted his young companion into the more populated areas of the city, and strangely, it also seemed to match the lackluster behavior of Blair as well. While Richard didn't expect her to simply bounce back from her losses and trauma in the last week, he was somewhat concerned about her withdrawal into herself, leaving only a cold and depressed exterior.

Neither of them spoke as they walked to the destination Richard had finally decided to select. Richard cleared his throat lightly to break the heavy silence which had fallen between the two, noting that the girl walking next to him stared determinedly at the sidewalk next to her. It seemed the sights and sounds had lost their charm to her already, but seeing as Richard was not fond of municipal areas anyway, he wasn't bothered. "Miss Litchenburg, are you alright?"

The brunette mumbled something inaudible, and didn't look up.

Not one to give up or show his vexation so easily, Richard sighed and pressed on. "Miss Litchenburg, we'll be arriving at the orphanage soon."

Blair simply blinked and kept her head down, refusing to meet Richard's gaze. Regardless of how he felt about the situation, the blonde knew the feeling was much more intense for the girl beside him as they crossed the street.

* * *

Ten minutes later, they were walking into the large, but somewhat plain building. Externally, it was a fairly cheerful place, with children playing on some of the equipment in a courtyard and pleasant flower beds to relax the eye. Despite appearances, however, Richard could sense the atmosphere of depression and sadness that surrounded the building; it wasn't that the employees were cruel, or the lives of the orphans were terrible, but the sense of abandonment and sadness was very much present under the façade all the same.

It was a nice building inside as well: mauve colored walls, somewhat worn but still somehow plush carpet that matched the color of the sky outside, with paintings and photographs of landscapes and various other things lining the walls of the room. There were two children about the same age as Blair who were playing cards in a corner, though from where he stood, Richard couldn't see which game they were playing. It took only a few seconds before a tired looking secretary wearing a business suit, with dark hair in a tight bun, stood up from her position behind a nearby desk and cast a curious, if sad eye onto Blair.

"How may I help you, sir?" the secretary asked in a kind but authoritative tone.

"I'm here to place this young lady up for adoption. I saved her from a Grimm attack about a week ago which killed her parents," Richard stated calmly as Blair latched herself firmly onto his side.

The secretary blinked and leaned in closer to Richard for a moment before her eyes widened in realization. "Aren't you the man who single-handedly stopped that gang battle?"

Richard sighed and nodded. "I am. Miss Litchenburg was caught up in the fray, I intervened, and one of the gang members was killed moments after I became involved. Incidentally, it was the same one who was using her as a human shield."

The dark haired woman blinked in surprise, and a moment passed in which Richard ushered Blair to go play with the other two children who looked curiously at the newcomer. When at last she could speak, the secretary replied in a way that very much set Richard off on the wrong foot. "Why are you giving her up for adoption?"

The blonde man momentarily lost his stoic mask and looked taken aback at the question. "Pardon me? I might be a Jack-of-all-trades, but a father I most certainly am not. I live a very dangerous life."

The secretary simply gave the blue-eyed man a shrewd look and stated simply, "Well, you act like one; in fact, you're a better father than most I've seen in my many years working here. You have already proven that you're willing to go into harm's way for Miss Litchenburg, and apparently you're quite good at protecting her, so what's stopping you?"

Richard was brought up short by the simplicity of the observation the woman before him. In truth, he had been wondering the same thing. He'd somehow grown extremely attached to the girl now silently playing cards with the other children, and for whatever reason, he couldn't imagine leaving her behind to fend for herself.

As he was thinking, the secretary pressed her advantage. "Furthermore, I think it would be best if you didn't leave her. I've seen many cases like hers, and they almost always have some form of mental trauma, especially if they're not adopted soon after their loss. She's alone now, and the only other person, in her mind, who cares anything for her now, is you. If you abandon her, I don't know if she'll ever recover."

The tall warrior bit his lip at that. He'd been wondering the same thing in the last hour himself, but to hear it from someone who was very experienced with such things made him feel selfish. Even if he hadn't meant to, he'd forged a bond with the brunette girl that ran deeply, and he supposed it was time for him to stop hiding from the truth and face the consequences of his actions.

With a sigh and a nod of acceptance, he said, "Very well; you've made your point. Might I have some adoption papers for Miss Litchenburg?"

The secretary nodded with a genuine smile. "Of course. I'll need your full name, occupation, and residence…"

* * *

Richard sighed in frustration as yet another customer simply passed through his wares without buying anything. For three days, he'd set up shop in the crowded market district of Vale, and as of yet, he'd hardly sold any Dust, let alone his more expensive products.

His trade was very respected in the villages hidden deep within both the Emerald and Forever Fall Forests, where the Grimm made it very unprofitable for ultra-modern businesses to do anything other than push the Hunters harder to get rid of the living obstacles. However, that was not so in the modernized cities, where flight was not a daydream, communication was instant, and fighting a sport rather than a deadly test of survival. Instead, his products were ignored in favor of more modern, flashy, or entertaining things. Even his premium quality Dust, which he mined and refined himself, was ignored in favor of the Schnee company's lesser quality mass-produced accelerant.

Still, none of this was unexpected. He'd sold some minor products and a fair amount of Dust to a four man team of Hunters, so he wasn't really complaining about that. The lack of profits wasn't comforting, however, considering he needed to get some extra supplies now that he had a daughter to think about.

The blonde man turned to glance at the nine year-old, who was somewhat sulkily playing by herself while she waited in the wagon with the horses. She had a proper dress now, a frilly white sundress that almost touched her ankles when she stood up properly, as well as a matching hat with a bright pink ribbon and pink sandals. He'd cringed slightly when she'd picked them out at the department store, but he'd obliged, as it was better than her wearing his clothes and looking like a hobo. Regardless, she had somehow garnered him more business than usual, but it was mostly just curious foot traffic.

After all, who can buy much from a Dust Blacksmith who specializes in weapons and ammunition?

Of course, he had more than that in his shop, as the wrought iron and steel fixtures and statuettes standing next to the weapons racks gave testament to, but he'd sold none of his pricier products, and the only Dust he'd sold was to some passing Hunters. One or two of the statuettes and decorative pieces were gone, but they weren't anything elaborate or expensive to produce, so naturally they did little to fill his coffers. Still, as this was their last day in Vale for a fair amount of time, he'd been grateful for every Lien he received.

"Richard? I'm bored…" Blair's whine immediately cut through the blonde man's ponderings, and caused him to look back at the makeshift counter.

"Oh? I'm sorry to hear about that, Blair, but I can't leave the stall. Just be patient, and I'll be done in about an hour or so, alright?"

The brunette girl didn't exactly take the news well, but thankfully accepted Richard's answer. _At least she's not spoiled, _Richard thought with relief.

However, before Blair could return to the wagon, two women, both of them Huntresses if the weapons they were carrying were any indication, spotted the stall through the bazaar and made their way towards it. Immediately, the blonde picked up the little girl and sat her down gently on the makeshift counter, ignoring her protests as he walked behind it himself.

As soon as the two women entered, they made a beeline for the weapon and Dust rack Richard had strategically placed Blair next to. He felt a bit of a twinge of regret at taking advantage of Blair by using her to attract customers, but he knew that if they didn't have enough money to buy supplies, they might very well die on the roads between villages.

"Good afternoon, ladies. How may I help you today?" Richard was in full businessman mode now; while he wasn't one to actively push products on people, he knew how to subtly entice a customer to a product they might have been looking for.

The taller of the two, a woman wearing practical clothes and an experienced look asked, "My friend and I are looking for good side arms, preferably something in the vein of a pistol or other easily learned ranged weapon."

Richard nodded in thought before guiding them to a rack of pistols on the other side of Blair's legs. Some were machine pistols, others were revolvers like the one he kept behind the counter for emergencies, but all of them were clearly well made.

"Here are my pistols; all of them hand crafted. They're fully customizable, and they can chamber virtually any lighter caliber Dust round, except for the Dust grenades, which can only be fired from the revolvers. Of course, you sacrifice firing speed and cartridge capacity if you take the revolver, but you have a more versatile weapon as compensation."

The women almost immediately began discussing some of the ins and outs of his opinion on which fighting style suited which weapon, and things of that nature. Richard checked on Blair every once in a while, and though he'd thought she'd be even more bored than before, or would have taken the opportunity to slip back into the wagon, he found that she was paying attention to the conversation with mild interest.

It took nearly an hour, but in the end, the two women departed, each with a new sidearm and a case of Dust rounds for their newly acquired weaponry. The blonde salesman sighed as soon as they were gone and slumped over the counter next to Blair, who had only just then climbed back onto the counter after wandering around the shop for a while.

"So… Are we done, Richard?" The question, asked plainly by the young girl caused Richard to chuckle.

"Certainly. Let's get this shop cleaned up and loaded, and then we'll get something to eat, alright?"

"Yay!" The brunette girl grinned for a moment before moving off to collect the lighter pieces off the ground and hurriedly stow them in the wagon, before returning to start moving the heavier things.

Richard sighed in slight relief at his adoptive daughter's sudden exuberance. He'd need to teach her to be careful with the Dust, but at least he didn't have to worry about a lot of weapons moving around his shop. He was more a repair and custom-made weapon and tool smith than anything else, which allowed him to free up more space for his smithy when he could afford a large space to set up shop.

At any rate, with Blair's assistance, the pair quickly closed up shop and departed to locate a restaurant and make plans on what to do once they left the metropolis.

As they were departing from Vale the next day, Richard took one glance back at the city, and thought to himself, _Well, looks like I have my answer, Lord. I'll do the best I can to teach her every good thing I know; I swear it._

* * *

_**Author's Note: I apologize for my long breaks between chapters; hopefully one day I'll write more consistently, but it looks like school won't let me do it, on top of my laziness. Regardless, we're at the end of the introductions now, and the story itself can begin. I'm wondering if anyone has guessed yet why I chose the cover for the story to be what it is; and **_**no**_**, Wismur Publishing House, you **_**cannot**_** tell them. A massive thank you to dashboardgecko for his amazing assistance with this tale and interest; this story would not be what it is without his aid. **_

_**Finally, a happy birthday to Wismur Publishing House, without whom this story would not have been properly put to print and seen the light of day.**_

_**Thank you for reading and bearing with me!**_

_**Signed: Hoenn Master, forever a patriot.**_


	4. Chapter Four

Faber et Filia Chapter Four

An R.W.B.Y. Fan-Fiction

Written by Hoenn Master, and edited by dashboardgecko

"Cry, the beloved country, for the unborn child which is the inheritor of our fear…" _Cry, The Beloved Country_, ending of Chapter 12

* * *

Richard sighed tiredly near the end of the second day traveling through Forever Fall. Thankfully, the village which he and his new companion were to be visiting was nearby, and they wouldn't be forced to sleep another night in an exposed area with only the fragile walls of his tent to keep the Grimm at bay. While he was confident in being able to combat nearly any Grimm creature, he was also concerned that he would somehow not notice one of them sneaking past him and killing Blair before he could do anything about it. While the thought was morbid at best, he'd lost more than one horse that way, and a human being was impossible to replace, unlike an animal.

"Blair," Richard began suddenly, breaking the silence and causing the brunette girl to look up at him curiously.

"What is it, Richard?"

"We'll be entering a village tonight, and I ask that you to please be on your best behavior," The blonde man kept his gaze straight ahead, always on the lookout for a Grimm ambush, but his tone was calm and kind. "There are many good people in this village, and it's our job to help them by selling to them the things they need at a reasonable price. Without us, there probably wouldn't be any people this deep into Grimm territory."

Blair blinked before turning her attention back onto the path they were following and nodding. "Okay…?"

"Richard, will you teach me how to fight Grimm?"

A long silence followed, the entire time, the young brunette girl wearing a deadly serious look.

The blonde warrior's grip on the reigns of the horses tightened, his leather gloves' stretching clearly audible even over the sound of the wheels crunching over the fallen leaves.

"I suppose it was inevitable you would ask me about that," he sighed, pausing for a moment to gather his thoughts before pressing on. "Still, I can't deny you that, and it would put me more at ease is something were to attack us…"

"Really? Just like that?"

Richard sighed but nodded. "Yes. I feel you're old enough to learn the basics of combat, and this way I'll be able to make sure you're safe even if I'm not around," Before Blair could celebrate, though, Richard interrupted. "However, if you think that I will teach you so that you can get revenge on the Grimm, you would be very wrong. What I am going to teach you is to be used only as a self-defense measure, not for actively hunting Grimm. That is what Signal and Beacon academies are for."

At that, Blair bit her lip but nodded firmly; she was clearly desperate for something, anything, which would give her direction in life.

"If you can prove to me you are ready to fight, not because you hate the Grimm, but because you wish to defend humanity from their darkness, then I promise I will teach you how to hunt Grimm until you can apply for Signal," Richard felt a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as soon as he finished speaking as he watched the range of emotions playing across his ward's features.

Just as the sun was setting over the trees, the wagon rolled into a small village nestled inside a massive clearing in the forest. There were only a few people traversing the streets, returning home from work, no doubt. There were several shouts of greeting from the few villagers, all of which the blonde smith responded to with a wave while Blair seemed to make herself smaller in her seat. Richard soon parked the cart by the only inn and stable in the small village; a swinging sign by the door read, _The Grimmhollow Inn_.

Richard quickly set to work securing his wares, making sure the horses were being taken care of by the stable master, and ensuring that Blair was not wandering off as the worker began a brief discussion on recent events, along with some updates. This blonde warrior need not have worried, however; Blair was clearly used to this kind of routine, and was not about to be wandering around at late hours.

After everything was properly settled, Richard retrieved his new ward, and opened to door of the inn to a blast of warm air, and the smell and sound of a small town eatery, bar, and gathering place, which both of the travelers were used to by this time.

As soon as they walked in, a matronly woman, clearly either the owner herself, or the wife of the owner, greeted Richard with a smile and a quick, but affectionate hug, not immediately noticing his brunette companion. "Welcome back to _The Grimhollow Inn_, Richard. What brings the best Dust smith around back here so soon? The harvest isn't for another week!" Just as the blonde man was about to reply, however, the older woman noticed his companion, and a confused expression crossed her features. "Richard, who is this? Is she yours?"

Again, before the blonde could explain himself, he was interrupted, this time by Blair, who looked almost as uncomfortable as Richard felt at that moment. "No, he's not my daddy… He's going to teach me how to fight Grimm."

Before he could be interrupted again, Richard cut in. "In a manner of speaking, that is. I found her while I was heading up north; her family was killed by a pack of Ursa Major, and I've taken her under my care since. Because of the dangers of my profession, I am teaching her how to defend herself, and then if she is accepted into Signal, it's up to her from there."

The innkeeper's wife didn't look surprised, but rather, deeply saddened at that and squatted down, gathering Blair into her arms for a hug. "Oh, you poor thing…"

Blair, though clearly holding back her tears, also looked somewhat awkward as the larger woman held her for a short time before turning back to Richard and standing up, wiping away small tears of her own. "You'll be wanting a room, then. We have a good one available, and I'll knock off a bit of the price. I can't let you stay here for free, mind; you know how it is in these villages."

Richard, surprised at the generous offer, nodded gratefully. "I understand perfectly, ma'am, but I'd have refused to stay here for free anyway; this village needs money, and I wouldn't take any away I didn't earn justly."

The woman smiled warmly. "And that's why we love your visits, dear; you don't try and cheat us like most other merchants."

Richard simply blushed lightly at the compliment and thanked the innkeeper's wife again before guiding Blair into their room for the night, pondering exactly how he would approach keeping Blair with him while he worked.

* * *

By the time dawn had broken, and his stall was properly set up, Richard had decided he would keep Blair with him behind the counter of the stall, and teach her how to help operate his business.

Naturally, the harvest season was a busy time for villages like this one; new tools, repairs, and various amenities were always needed, and though it was a fairly small village, there were more than enough people crowding Richard's stall to keep both he and Blair thoroughly busy.

Several times throughout the day Richard had his hand shaken by members of the town militia, who all thanked him for helping fend off a number of isolated Grimm attacks whenever he'd been in the area. The blonde man usually flushed slightly, but politely accepted the compliments all the same, and gave out minor discounts to the members of the militia. Many other villagers, mainly members of the militiamen's families, either merely thanked him, or held varying lengths of conversation with him or Blair, who was almost always brought up as a topic at least once as their business was concluded, their sales paid.

Near the end of the day, both he and Blair were growing tired, and were perfectly ready to close up after the last few customers finished their shopping.

It seemed, however, that things would never be so simple as that.

It had bothered Richard that there were so few Grimm on the path to the village. At first, he had assumed that an attack had recently been repelled without his knowledge, but there was no news of that circulating around the inn when he and Blair had come back out of their room to eat. Therefore, it didn't come as much of a surprise to him when the roar of an Ursa Major was heard in the distance just as the sun sank low in the sky. It did, however, cause the village to scramble for their Dust weapons, and Blair to flinch and look around nervously.

Richard placed a hand on her shoulder and spoke in a very serious tone. "Blair, I'll need to help the villagers. Please go to the inn and wait for me there; I'll come for you soon."

The brunette girl seemed to feel differently, however. "No! I want to help you! Don't leave me behind!"

"Blair, please, listen to me: the Grimm out there are probably much stronger than you or any average villager can handle. I must help these good people. Wait with the innkeeper's wife. Please."

Blair, understanding that she wasn't going to get her way, settled on giving her guardian a sour look as she jogged back towards the inn. Richard waited for almost a full minute to ensure she was going where she needed to be before running for the walls of the city, quickly seeing that his help would indeed be needed. Several men were already bleeding profusely as the Grimm advanced.

Richard drew his sword and charged the nearest beast, quickly sidestepping around the attacking claw and bringing the full brunt of his momentum forward in a stab directed at the Grimm's throat. The moment the sword penetrated, the blonde warrior stepped back, ripping out the rest of the beast's tattered neck and dropping it with a solid thud. In one motion, he drew his gun and fired down the Ursa's ear, and pressed forwards, quickly coming to the relief of the warriors of the village, who, despite holding out well in light of the situation, were simply no match for the unusually large number of Grimm.

It was quite obvious that the fight would have to be gradually taken towards the walls of the city, where the Ursa would be at a disadvantage with the close-quarters combat. Therefore, Richard did the only thing he could think of, and yelled out.

"Everyone! Retreat to the walls! I'll hold them off until you get there! Let's go!"

The men only hesitated for a moment before they followed Richard's order, backing away into a fighting retreat before pouring into the city walls. Richard, mostly used to fighting large numbers of enemies, ducked and wove through the claws and bites of the Grimm which came at him, while retreating towards the portcullis of the wall. The militiamen were already beginning to fire their Dust rifles into the approaching horde, though it had little effect unless a lucky shot penetrated an Ursa's eye, or hit center mass on a Beowolf.

Unfortunately, Richard was too late to get into the city proper, as the gates were firmly shut, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to get in until all of the Grimm were slain. With a growl and a clenched jaw, the blonde warrior turned to face the incoming mob, immediately cutting his way through the first few who challenged him.

After several minutes of slaying Grimm, and about a dozen solid bruises and cuts from various swipes and narrow misses, there was the sound of heavy weapons near the back ranks of Ursa. Richard paused for a moment, searching for the source of the reinforcements, when he spotted a brief glimpse of a truly massive man with a mop of deep crimson hair literally bowling Ursa over in his charge forwards, several shorter figures following up on his attack with flashing weapons in the late afternoon light, the sound and colors of Dust being used as well as the shrieks and growls of surprise coming from the Ursa quickly making themselves known. Richard sighed in relief at the thought of a full team of Hunters appearing on the battlefield, but the feeling was short-lived; the blonde had dropped his guard for the briefest of moments, and was brought back to reality by searing pain as several Ursa clawed at him, leaving deep, bloody gashes along his arms and back.

With a roar, Richard swept his blade around into a guarding position, and immediately began to mentally block out the pain as he activated his Aura to boost his natural healing ability as opposed to merely protecting him as he charged back into the fray, fully intending to support the new members of the battlefield.

* * *

It took nearly another half hour of fighting before all of the Grimm were properly finished off, and in that time, Richard had almost fully healed himself with his Aura, though at the cost of most of his stamina. Regardless, he was soon face to red and sweaty face with the team of Hunters who had helped him save the village.

There were three men, one of whom was most definitely a Faunus of some sort, but Richard had never seen one look quite so… Reptilian. His eyes gave him away; though it was too dark for Richard to properly properly his pupils, even from just a few feet away, they held a predatory glint in them, as well as a haughty air, and, though it was extremely difficult to see in the current lighting, vertical slits for pupils, rather than the circular ones which humans carried. He was almost seven feet tall, obviously built up as a powerful brawler, if his Dust gauntlets were any indication, with fairly long pitch black hair combed back into a short ponytail. He wore greaves over black denim pants, and pauldrons covered his shoulders over a long-sleeved grey turtleneck, hiding most of a large scar running along the side of his neck.

His skin, or rather, what little Richard could see of it, seemed to almost have a faint pattern mimicking tiny scales lining the flesh, as well as a very muted luster which only barely outshone normal human skin in the quickly diminishing lighting. Even what little he could see in the man's outline, Richard could tell the man's joints seemed oddly emphasized in the elbows, knees, and along the shoulders.

The other two men were human, or at least, looked human, including the red-headed man he had seen earlier. The redhead was taller than the reptilian man, wielding twin fighting axes with horribly over-exaggerated beards covering the handles with several barrels along them, no doubt using recoil to compensate for the weight put into a swing. If the reptilian man was muscular, this behemoth was positively ripped; his bulging muscles were plainly obvious even underneath the dark jacket he wore, and the sturdy clothes, though protective, were clearly not quite properly sized on him, as the material was stretched beyond what would be considered normal stress during the course of simple wear and tear. In short, the man was an intimidating sight, even to the blonde warrior, though he didn't show it, and the effect passed off of him shortly.

The final male in the group was decidedly smaller than the rest of his team, being shorter than Richard by almost a full head. He carried a large automatic rifle with a billhook attached near the end of the barrel, as well as a rapier on his left hip for even closer quarters combat. He was undeniably a handsome young man, with thick, wavy brown hair cut off at the base of his neck, and bangs swept to the side of his face. He had the most armor of the assembled men, wearing greaves over his legs, pauldrons over his shoulders, and a plated leather coat instead of a solid steel cuirass to protect his torso, and a light, open-faced helmet which he was currently holding in his off hand.

The final member of the team was a slightly intimidating young black woman with braided onyx-colored hair reaching down her back, falling over the magnetic clasps which held a large and fierce-looking greatsword firmly in place, but still allowing for safe and practical access, as well as a small set of short, rounded ears poking out of the hairstyle, signaling her as a Bear Faunus. She stood nearly eye level with Richard and wore a full suit of plate armor, only her helmet was resting under her arm as she eyed Richard with a critical gaze.

No one spoke for almost a minute in the dead calm after the battle; the four warriors watched Richard, and the blonde returned the favor by examining his rescuers with the same intensity. Finally, devoid of another option, Richard slowly inclined his head and shoulders in a brief, but polite and respectful bow.

"Greetings. I am Richard Brown, a humble merchant. Thank you for your help; I don't know if I would have been able to hold out without backup for much longer."

The assembled group of Hunters looked at one another confusedly before the woman stepped forward and spoke with a low, but light and calm voice. "You're very welcome. We were passing through when the alert came through the network that this village was under attack. It's good to see a village standing up against the Grimm and winning. Anyway, I think it's we who should be thanking you; it's obvious you're the main reason the walls weren't obliterated was because of your skills in battle."

At that, both of the taller men nodded in agreement; the redhead obviously impressed, while the reptilian one seemed more impassive. The shortest member merely looked apathetic.

"I still wouldn't have been able to completely hold all of the Grimm without your aid," Richard continued, undaunted. "At any rate, it looks like you all have some very minor damage to your armors and weapons. I happen to be a travelling Dust smith, and I've set up shop in town. As thanks for your assistance, I'll knock off half of the price of my refurbishment of all of your equipment. I'd do it for free, but money hasn't been flowing well for me recently, and I need all I can; I'm sure you know how things like that go."

"I guess that would depend on the price you're asking." The woman replied as she raised an eyebrow, drew her weapon and looked at both it, a greatsword nearly as tall as she was with several slots for Dust crystals, and her nearly immaculate armor.

"My rate is one thousand Lien for a full refurbishment and upgrade, and five hundred for just the repairs." Richard chuckled and motioned for the Hunters to follow him as he turned and began walking back into the village.

"That's a steep price you're charging for some minor repair work. Why?" The reptilian man stopped dead for a moment before replying in a low, deep voice, like a fire log moving over hot coals.

"I do all of my work by hand, and I have a special Dust I quarry myself in my spare time which makes most weapons and armor much stronger and doesn't add weight," Richard inclined his head and motioned in the direction of the hulking red haired man bringing up the rear. "On top of that, I have a lot of work to do on those battle axes; I've never seen a more impractical weapon, and I've seen the master Hunter Qrow at work with his Scythe."

It seemed no one had a response to that logic, and everyone soon fell into silence as they made their way to the blonde man's stall in the fading light, where all of his equipment remained, undisturbed. Richard brought the group to a halt, and then turned to face them. "I apologize, but I have to retrieve my… Daughter, from the inn. I'll only be a very few minutes. In the meantime, please, have a look around, and if you see anything, I'll be glad to tell you more about it if you're curious."

And with that, the blonde man turned on his heel and started walking towards the inn.

* * *

Once he was firmly out of earshot, the woman gathered her team around. "What do you guys think? He sounds serious."

"He'd better be if he wants to try and charge us that much. Still, I guess it can't hurt to get some fine tuning on my gauntlets; they've been sticking a bit recently." The reptilian man chuckled dryly.

"I say anyone as strong as he is doesn't have a reason to be lying to us. Besides, I want to see how he intends to," and here he put up air quotes, "'fix' my weapons. Heh." The huge man, who grinned and replied in a low, powerfully solid voice, like the sound of an axe hitting a thick tree trunk squarely, responded in turn.

Finally, the woman turned to the shortest member of her team. "What do you think?"

"I don't see why not; my rifle's been feeling a bit off anyway." The brunette smirked lightly before responding with a measured, but confident tenor voice.

The woman nodded in approval. "Alright, it looks like we're going to have to pony up the money, guys. Cough up your share."

There were a series of grumblings, but wallets were drawn out regardless, and the money was all gathered. After everything was counted, the woman nodded in satisfaction, and sat down on a nearby barrel.

"I guess the only thing left to do now, is wait."

* * *

_**B.N.:**_

_**Well, I don't really know what to say; I take forever to update.**_

_**At any rate, a massive thank you to dashboardgecko, as usual, for without his assistance, this story would never be as good as it is. I also thank Whismur Publishing House, without whom this story would never have happened, and for pushing me to get my stories updated in a relatively timely fashion.**_

_**Finally, while I don't normally resort to this… If you liked the story, or found it hideous, don't hesitate to tell me; I thrive on constructive criticism, and I'm always anxious to improve my story, and by extension, the reading experience.**_

_**Signed: Hoenn Master, forever a patriot.**_


	5. Chapter Five

Faber et Filia Chapter Five

An R.W.B.Y. Fan-Fiction

Written by Hoenn Master, and edited by dashboardgecko.

"…for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction…" Newton's Third Law

* * *

It was fewer than ten minutes before Richard returned with a somewhat frightened-looking Blair nearly hanging off of him. The blonde sighed as he gently extricated himself from his adopted daughter's death-grip on his elbow before facing the four Hunters waiting in front of his business.

"Hello again. I apologize for the wait, but I couldn't in good conscience leave Miss Blair behind in the inn without knowing I was alive and mostly unharmed."

The Faunus woman nodded at that, a pleasant smile gracing her features when she looked at the young girl before her. Blair seemed to be struck with a sudden sense of shyness, ducking behind Richard and peering around his elbow at the two very large and decidedly intimidating men.

The woman blinked and then chuckled before returning to the conversation at hand. "Well, Richard, you certainly have an interesting daughter. But it occurs to me that we know your name, and you don't know ours, so allow me to introduce us. I am Sophitia Blackbriar, leader of Team Hospital, otherwise known as 'H' 'S' 'P' 'T'. The behemoth there is named Corduroy Havoc-"

At that, the red haired man scoffed, derailing the introduction almost completely as he crossed his arms. "It's Roy," he grumbled in chagrin. "Just call me Roy."

Sophitia merely rolled her eyes in response, but complied with her teammate's wishes. "Fine. He prefers the name Roy. Now, where was I… Oh yes; the Faunus man behind me is named Paul Dragmire, and the final member's name is Thomas Chartreusian."

At that, Paul merely nodded and grunted, while the comparatively smaller brunette man half-heartedly raised his hand, acknowledging his presence.

After a brief pause, Richard's eyebrows raised slightly as the names fully sunk in. "Color me impressed, Miss Sophitia; I never thought I'd have the pleasure of working on the illustrious team Hospital's equipment."

The black haired woman looked both surprised and proud of her team's reputation. "Well, I think the reason we're so talked about is because we actually demand to go out into the field rather than stay locked up behind city walls all day. I guess you could also use that as the reason we're the most elite team in all of Vale."

Richard merely inclined his head in acceptance of the answer. "I see. Well, regardless, I will take even greater pains to improve your equipment to the best of my abilities."

At that, Paul snidely inserted his own two cents. "And you weren't before?"

Richard scoffed lightly. "Of course I would have. I'm an honest man, Mister Paul, and I couldn't stand giving someone an intentionally substandard product."

Paul had no effective rebuttal to that observation, and the point died as quickly as it had arisen. Soon the Hunters were removing their armor and weapons, each of them going into separate, sorted piles. After a few more minutes of conversation, Richard instructed the elite team to return to his stall the following day to check on his progress, though he noted that it would likely take several days for everything to be repaired and adjusted. This was agreed upon, and the Hunters took their leave, leaving Richard and Blair in the very low lighting of the stars and cresting moon, in full shatter phase.

* * *

The sun slowly rose over the beautifully colored trees of Forever Fall with Richard working dutifully at the forge, pounding and reforming each piece of armor with great care and attention. He had risen early, before the sun had even begun to peek over the horizon, let alone the forest surrounding the town, and had been hard at work while Blair slept in the room of the inn.

He carefully poured precisely measured amounts of his meticulously refined Dust into bowls of bluing chemicals before he began finishing the final touches on Sophitia's armor, chosen as the first set to repair since it was easily the most complex of the armor sets to maintain, and the bluing was nearly worn off. He was about to dip it into the tub of Dust and chemicals when he heard the unmistakable voice of his young ward behind him.

"What's that stuff you're putting the armor in, Richard?"

The blonde jumped slightly, but thankfully, his grip on the tongs keeping the very hot breastplate away from his body did not fail, and he quickly recovered. "I'm doing a thing called bluing, Blair. It's when metal is dipped into a chemical bath to both color it and prevent rust and other things from damaging the metal. On top of that, I have a special mixture of Dust to increase the strength of the chemicals, so an incredibly resilient sheen covers the armor."

Blair gave the blonde a blank look, so he amended his statement to be a bit easier for her to understand. "It coats the armor to make it stronger and keep it from rusting."

The brunette girl nodded, comprehending the words as Richard turned and deftly dipped the armor into the bath. It was less than a minute before Richard pulled the much cooler armor out of the tub, setting it on a sawhorse covered with a towel to begin drying it with a clean rag.

"Can I help you dry that armor, Richard?" Blair asked suddenly, causing the young man to stop and look at her.

"Hmm… There's nothing wrong with that, I suppose. Get an apron on and some gloves, and then you may help me."

As the girl grinned and scurried off the get the needed items out from behind the counter, Richard noticed Team Hospital coming around the corner. He quickly laid the armor down on its back, leaving it in reach of Blair, who wouldn't be able to easily lift the weight of the armor if it happened to tip over onto her.

Richard wiped his soiled gloves on the cloth and took them off just in time to have his hand engulfed in the vise-like grip of Roy, the older redhead chuckling at Richard's attempts to at least squeeze back with enough force to make the exchange a bit more Pyrrhic, but it had little effect. After a few moments that felt like several minutes to Richard, Roy released the younger man's hand with a chuckle. "You got a good grip, kid; I like that."

Richard wasn't entirely sure what to make of the compliment, but decided to leave the subject alone for the time being. "Err, thank you."

At that moment, Sophitia spoke up, alleviating the slight tension as she thumbed in the direction of Blair working on the cuirass. "Well, Mister Brown, I have to say, my armor looks pretty good. You said last night that you could make it stronger and lighter than it was before though, and I can't see any difference from here."

"It was difficult making an already light but strong armor even lighter and stronger, but I think I've managed to accomplish my goals. It will now resist heat and cold much more efficiently, and it will take heavier blows without damage than before. To be honest, I couldn't take out as much weight as I thought I could, so there's not a significant difference there."

Sophitia raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed with just how much was actually accomplished. "I'd say that's a pretty significant upgrade, though. I don't use elemental Dust, but Thomas does, so now I don't have to worry about being too close to one of his elemental discharges."

"I wouldn't recommend just letting yourself get hit by attacks, Miss Blackbriar," Richard interjected, his tone turning serious in a heartbeat. "This is only a coating over the armor, and nothing more. It will wear off eventually just from basic wear and tear."

Sophitia blinked, taken aback at the change of tone. "R-right. I wasn't planning on not being careful. It's just that we rely a lot on melee, and since Thomas is the only effective ranged unit on the team, his bullets tend to stray sometimes in the heat of the fight."

The blonde nodded in understanding, turning to look at the weapon rack he'd stored Hospital's equipment on. "That much was fairly obvious from your weapons, but I understand what you're saying. At any rate, if you'd like, you can pay for your own set now, and receive it immediately, or you can wait until I've finished everyone else's sets and pay in bulk. The choice is up to you."

This sudden change in topic caused Paul to bark out a short laugh at Sophitia's surprised expression. "Well, you're quick to the point. I want to see my equipment finished before I pay you even one Lien. As nice a job as it seems to be, I want to inspect my gauntlets after you're through with them first."

"Of course; it wouldn't be good business sense to just demand someone depend on an uninspected piece of equipment."

Paul smirked at that, backing down somewhat. "Alright, kid, if you have enough confidence in your steel to do that, then you might just earn my respect."

"Well, whatever you say, Paul, this guy's got some serious guts, and a nice grip, too. I like him," Roy interjected, throwing an arm over the slightly shorter man's shoulder, causing the Faunus to shrug him off just as quickly.

Before things could devolve further, Sophitia brought her fingers to her lips and whistled loudly, causing Blair to nearly drop the newly polished armor, and the two massive men to break up their pseudo-fight. "Alright, guys, that's enough; you can work out your testosterone later. Let's leave the smith to his work."

Richard nodded gratefully to the attractive, though admittedly somewhat intimidating woman. "Thank you. Your weapon is almost done, and it looks like Blair has just finished working on your armor. If you'd like, I can give you the armor now so you might inspect it at your leisure."

"Thank you; I'll take it. It's not that I doubt your work from what I've seen, but, well, I need this to keep me alive sometimes, so I need to keep an eye on it. I'm sure you know how it is out here."

"I probably understand that better than most. At any rate, your team is leaving you behind. Come pick up your weapon this evening; it should be ready by then."

"Alright. Thanks again."

"You're most welcome."

* * *

Several days passed with Richard tirelessly working at the forge, both on the equipment of Team Hospital, who grew more impressed with his abilities as a smith and with his knowledge in the arts of war, and also on the tools of the villagers. Though Hospital was an important customer, he could not neglect his original reason for coming to the village in the first place. Regardless, by the end of a week, Richard had forged several weapons, supplied Dust to the village armory, and refurbished Hospital's weapons.

It had been a somewhat strange sight to witness Roy, of all people, grin like a maniac while he tested his weapons at the butcher shop, cleaving and cleanly butchering animals with, what he reported, more ease than he'd thought possible with the weapons he'd designed. Richard had also won the begrudging respect of Paul, who expressed his satisfaction with the blonde man's work by wordlessly, but willingly, handing him a wad of Lien bills. It came as only a small surprise to the smith, then, when the question of his age was asked by Thomas on the final day of their repairs.

The moment the final monetary exchange took place, and Thomas had his armor and weapon in his hands again, he allowed a curious, if guarded, tone to enter his voice. "Exactly how old are you, Richard? Your physical age couldn't possibly see you out of Beacon yet, if you ever were a student there, but your mental age is much higher than that. You have a look in your eye that can only tell me that you're far more than a mere Dust Smith."

The blonde laughed briefly; it was humorless and tired, and seemed to age him ten years. "I am eighteen years-old. As for my mental age, well… That's not something I want to go into. It's a dark story, one that I don't want to relive."

"I understand. Regardless, your skills are truly incredible for someone your age. Why haven't you enrolled in Beacon? You're more than qualified for the combat portions, and you don't seem to be uneducated in other areas."

"Ah, but therein lies the problem: I'm overqualified. If I went to Beacon, I wouldn't learn anything new about fighting, as I've been in more deadly situations while I've lived out here than many of the students at Beacon would understand. On top of that, I have Blair to care for now, and leaving her to go to a combat school would be more than a little irresponsible. I'm not going to attend Beacon."

The quickly articulated refusal gave the brunette Hunter pause for a moment. "I see. Maybe you might consider coming with us as part of Team Hospital, then?"

Richard's eyebrows shot up in surprise and he looked directly into Thomas' own golden eyes. "I cannot. Even _if_ my skills meet your team's standards, what you're asking would require me to leave Blair behind, or bring her into great danger."

"We live in a dangerous world, and there are few things more dangerous than travelling through it alone."

Richard sighed, allowing the older warrior the point. "That's true, but there's a difference between danger being part of a journey, and actively seeking it out for a living."

Not one to be bested easily, Thomas persisted. "Richard, I know you're a capable warrior, but please be reasonable. As you no doubt know, the Hunters have been losing a lot of good people fighting Grimm and dangerous criminals. We need people with skills like yours."

A chuckle and a wry smile greeted the statement. "I don't doubt that at all, and while I understand the situation, I still have to take care of Miss Litchenburg, as well as operate my business."

"Why don't you bring her with you, and maintain your smithing?"

Richard raised an eyebrow at that admittedly off-the-wall suggestion. "A fair point, but my own point still stands: I won't send Blair into needless danger without very good reason. She's already lost her family to the Grimm. Isn't that enough? I won't ask her to watch me fight and possibly die for someone she knows nothing about, and for a cause she might not support."

"Why don't you ask her, rather than make the decision for her?"

"She's not even ten years old, Thomas. As her guardian, I have to look after her best interests."

"I understand that, and you're admirable for it, but your talents are really and truly needed. I know this might sound terrible, but it's no less true: your skills might save the lives of thousands down the road if you at least agree to join Hospital. Blair is just one girl you could, and have, saved with those talents, Richard."

The blonde man sighed, at last conceding that Thomas had a valid point he couldn't readily deny. Regardless, he had not survived this long in the wild places away from cities by allowing himself to be a doormat. "If Blair agrees to it, I don't see any other reason, I suppose. However, if she decides she no longer wants to live in a near-constant state of military alert and deployment, I will leave, and take her with me."

The brunette man nodded deeply, a relieved tone entering his voice. "Of course; I can't ask anything more of you."

"No, in a way, you cannot," Richard sighed tiredly, turning down the road towards the inn, leaving Thomas holding his weapon, armor, and a slightly confused expression.

_"Well, Lord, it seems things only grow more complicated. I can only pray I'm making the right decision…"_

* * *

**_A.N._**

**_Wow, this too far too long to write. Well, I apologize for the wait, and the excuse I hold up is that I am a busy man, and just as lazy when I'm not busy. I have no other excuse._**

**_As per usual, I must thank DBG for his constant aid and support in his beta reading, and Whismur Publishing House, for constantly annoying me into writing._**

**_Finally, I want to wish all of my readers a very merry Christmas, and a happy new year!_**

**_Signed: Hoenn Master, forever a patriot._**


	6. Chapter Six

Faber et Filia Chapter Six

An R.W.B.Y. Fan-Fiction

Written by Hoenn Master, and edited by dashboardgecko

_**A.N.**_

_**Today, the fourth of February, 2015, I learned of Monty Oum's death. Though most of my readers will more than likely know this by the time this is posted, it was news to me just before I posted this chapter.**_

_**Fare thee well, Monty Oum; though I never knew you personally, your work bespoke of a great man, filled with goodness and shone through with a love for what you did. You shall be missed. May the perpetual light of God shine upon you, and grant you eternal rest in the loving embrace of Jesus Christ.**_

* * *

It was with a heavy heart that the blonde smith looked back at the small town's walls as the morning sun began to penetrate the canopy overhead. That morning, the members of Team Hospital had all gathered around the young merchant's wagon, preventing his escape without an answer to them. Richard took private offense that they would consider him so untrustworthy as that, but he understood their caution. Team Hospital were in no way uncertain in their so-called '_request_' for his aid in the general cause of the Hunters. To his great personal sadness, Blair agreed with their logic, and bound by his word, he was forced to join their ranks.

As it was, Paul seemed to share Richard's dislike of the idea, but he maintained his silence as Thomas and Sophitia discussed the next plan of action. Blair, meanwhile, was busy bombarding Roy with questions, leaving the hulking man in a state of mild annoyance and confusion as he answered her questions to the best of his ability. Upon seeing the look of slowly simmering frustration in Roy's countenance, Richard hastily called Blair away and prompted her to try and talk to Sophitia, who seemed to be wholly taken with the young brunette girl, and didn't mind her questions.

Richard supposed that was a side-effect of growing up in the matriarchal society the Bear Faunus more or less maintained, as unlike most of his peers, the blonde extended great efforts to study and learn all he could of the world he lived in and how it operated. In his opinion, it was a natural progression to question why exactly many people saw Faunus as inferiors, rather than the equals they were; especially considering the many similarities they had. That was another reason he preferred the world outside of the cities; racism was far less pronounced when everyone was too busy trying to work together and survive to care.

"Hey, kid, thanks. Your girl's really got a set of pipes on her."

Richard blinked as he was pulled from his reverie by the coarse voice of Roy. "Hmm. That she does. Let's just hope she puts that to use in breathing exercises to help her later if she wants to train as badly as she's been claiming."

The older redhead smirked down at the smith. "Heh, she's got spirit, I can at least appreciate that. By the way, when we're done patrolling for today, I want to see how strong you really are. If you're halfway as good with that sword you're carrying as you are with a forge, it ought to be a good match."

"I'm not bad with my weapon, but I doubt I could best you right now."

"Pah, all flattery. You're strong, and I want to know exactly _how_ strong. We'll go until one of us shouts 'uncle'."

Richard sighed lightly; he knew from both his challenger's tone and determination that any more attempts to refuse, politely or not, would only end in failure. "Very well. I'm assuming we'll be using training weapons?"

The massive man burst out laughing, a wide grin on his face. "Of course not! How can you get any better in combat if you use different weapons to train and fight with?"

"… I suppose that would be true. After dinner?"

"Sounds good to me."

"Excellent."

* * *

It came as no surprise to Richard that he had the gritty taste of dirt in his mouth as he was knocked down yet again. This was the third time his attacks fell completely short against what he could only assume to be Roy's Semblance.

_"That kind of Aura strength… Not even _I_ have that…"_

"HA HA HA! Nice try, kid! You're good, I'll give you that, but you're going to have to try a bit harder to take me down!"

Richard, now battered, bruised, cut, and thoroughly humbled, painfully rolled to his feet as his rapidly diminishing Aura tried to keep up with his injuries. He spat out a small wad of mud that had collected in his mouth and settled into another defensive stance, waiting for the strike he knew was coming.

As agreed upon, immediately after dinner in a large clearing in the forest, Roy took position on the opposite side of a ring he'd prepared for just that purpose. He'd been far stronger and more reckless than Richard had anticipated, and though Richard knew he had the speed and possibly even a skill advantage, Roy was, to put it simply, a tank. Roy's speed was respectable for a man of his size; it didn't help he hit like a freight train, and could take Richard's best blows without even flinching on top of that. To make things seem absolutely hopeless on the surface was the fact Roy's Aura seemed to completely absorb anything the blonde swordsman threw at it.

With a grunt of determination, Richard took a deep breath, and forced himself to calm down and think rationally. Roy's Aura was incredibly powerful, yes, but that last tussle had taught him something: his Aura seemed weaker on the flanks and in the back, meaning if Richard could just get a few successful attacks off before Roy could bring the full force of his Aura to bear…

The blonde's thoughts were torn asunder as he instinctively leaped to the side, one of Roy's axes narrowly missing his side and leaving a deep furrow in the ground showing where he'd missed.

"Nice dodge, kid," Roy grinned, apparently pleased he'd not been entirely wrong in his initial observations of Richard. "Now, fight me with your best! I know you can do better than this!"

Richard ground his teeth and charged, a plan quickly forming in his mind. Roy smirked as Richard apparently charged him dead on, assuming that the younger man had not learned his lesson from the last three failures at either frontal or side attacks. He brought down one of his axes to where he knew his opponent would be, only to hit nothing but empty air.

Richard's mind raced as he saw one of Roy's axes roar to life, and in a split second, he implemented his plan. He dove forward and to Roy's side, performing an expert roll which took him behind the large warrior, and leaped up, catching Roy's exposed rear in a vicious uppercut swipe. To Richard's surprise, the attack actually penetrated the redhead's Aura for the first time, leaving a long but shallow gash in his opponent's back.

He back flipped away to gain some distance, fearful of retaliation, but the only response that greeted him was a grunted curse from Roy as the massive man pressed the attack once again. In seconds, the situation was exactly the same as it had been moments before. Steeling himself, Richard, knowing it likely wouldn't turn out as well, tried to perform the back slice once again, this time rolling in the other direction.

Though Roy was a bit slow, he was no fool, and caught on to his opponent's ploy. However, instead of attacking at once, Richard came out of his roll and immediately back flipped to gain a bit of distance before rapidly leaping forwards and slamming full force onto Roy's powerful Aura shields. Unfortunately, as soon as Richard realized his mistake, Roy already had him in a bear hug powerful enough to completely constrict his victim's breathing.

As he struggled, Richard felt one of Roy's arms shift, but as soon as the hope of escape rose, he felt the haft of one of the gigantic man's axes slam into the side of his head, knocking him out almost instantly.

* * *

The massive, throbbing pain on the side of his head awakened the blonde as he slowly opened his eyes to a very early morning. Richard coughed lightly and slowly put a hand to his aching appendage, feeling gauze as he sat up in his sleeping bag. Everyone else in camp appeared to still be asleep apart from Paul, who was diligently keeping watch.

"So, sleeping beauty awakes, eh?"

Richard blinked at the man, surprised at his only lightly mocking tone. Apparently, he'd won a least a little of the man's respect. "Heh, I half-wish I hadn't. It feels worse than what I'm told a hangover feels like."

"Never had a hangover, eh?" Paul chuckled. "Can't say I'm that surprised. Either way, I was a bit impressed at how long you lasted against Roy. Newbies fighting him, even back in Beacon, usually only lasted a minute or two at most, but you managed to hold on for a full _three_."

The mostly sarcastic tone held a hint of a genuine compliment to it, though admittedly not much of one, considering that Roy had hardly even bled, while Richard could feel multiple bandages on his chest and head. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Paul."

The Faunus man merely chuckled a little harder at the slightly caustic response. "Anytime, kid."

After that, the conversation died, and the two were content to remain silent and observant as the morning light began to really make itself present. It was only a few minutes before Roy grunted sleepily and began to awaken, the other members of the party beginning to rise as well.

Once the rest of the team were fully awakened and had prepared breakfast, Richard cleared his throat to get Hospital's attention. "Before we travel any further, I'd like to know: where are we going?"

After a moment's pause, in which everyone differed to Sophitia, the woman swallowed her mouthful of food and replied. "We're currently on a three month patrol. We left Vale about a month ago, and have been going around to the currently known settlements we've been able to find, but so far things haven't been good. Almost half of the colonies have been wiped out or abandoned to the Grimm, and those that are alive are in no condition to be able to support a more permanent lifestyle."

"I see," the blonde nodded gravely, knowing the harsh reality of life in Forever Fall very intimately. "Well then, it looks like I'll be useful to you in more ways than one. I've traveled these forests for most of my life; I'll show you some hidden paths I frequent to speed up travel."

Sophitia's eyebrows rose slightly at that news, but looked pleased at the offer nonetheless. "Thanks for your help, then, Richard. We might finish the tour early if we can finish the updated map and help the villages which are still standing."

"Then I'm assuming we'll be heading back to Vale?"

"That's the plan," Sophitia nodded. "Of course, I'm sure one of the combat schools could use your talent. Thomas told me you're eighteen, so you're not too old to be rejected yet."

"Then I'm sure Thomas also told you my reasons for refusing to join Beacon. I'm a smith, and a warrior, not a student trying to learn things I've already learned."

"But Richard, didn't you lose to Mister Roy?" Blair piped up, immediately drawing all attention onto herself.

"Yeah, he did," Roy laughed. "Still, I gotta say, he's better than the average Beacon senior, so the kid's got a point."

Sophitia looked somewhat put-out, but nevertheless agreed, as her own assessment was much the same. "Fine. But I still think that Richard needs to see Headmaster Ozpin and see what he thinks. Either way, we're going to Vale in less than two months."

"… I can agree to that," Richard sighed reluctantly.

Once the conversation ended, breakfast was finished, and after making sure their camp was properly broken, the six travelers moved on. Blair, ever inquisitive about Hunters, almost immediately hopped down from the wagon and began asking questions of Sophitia, both parties taking to one another more by the minute.

Meanwhile, Paul and Roy bantered while sitting in the back with Thomas. Richard was somewhat worried at first that a fight would break out, but the brunette gunner seemed content to simply watch the minor display of fireworks and not get involved. In light of that, and the fact that things didn't seem to be escalating too much, Richard decided it was a common occurrence, and that he needn't worry much over it as the horses began to plod on into the forest once more.

* * *

By the end of the day, Richard's patience was somewhat frayed from the semi-constant bickering of Roy and Paul, and apprehension at Sophitia's offer to begin training Blair in the art of fighting Grimm under his supervision. Richard knew it had to begin soon, but he had hoped to begin her training in seclusion in order to allow her the choice of attending a formal school, rather than be all but forced into it under a fully trained Hunter team. At any rate, there was little he could do, and he reluctantly allowed it. As the men set up the camp in a clearing, Sophitia took the young brunette girl aside, and sat down with her on a nearby fallen log.

Richard was still conflicted about his decision when Roy suddenly walked up and clapped him hard on the back, causing the younger man to stumble. "Don't worry, kid. Sophitia knows what she's doing."

"I just hope this is the right thing for Blair. It hasn't been too long since her parents died, and yet she's… Happier than I'd expected."

Roy floundered slightly before replying. "Well, I'm not one for this mushy garbage, but I do know that she's tough, and that she wants to be a Huntress. I can see it in her eyes. One day she's gonna wake up and decide to go to Signal, or even Beacon, and there won't be a thing you could do to stop her. So, I say train her now, so she'll be ready when that day comes, eh?"

Richard smirked and chuckled. "I may not have known you long, Roy, but you're a lot smarter than I took you for at first."

"Pah, I'm not a total meathead, you know; Beacon's got more than just fighting going for it. I may be a bit slow, but when I get to the fight, expect bodies to start flying."

Richard remembered how easily the Ursa and Beowolves had been sent flying the week before, and nodded. "I don't doubt it, Roy."

* * *

_**A.N.**_

_**Before this chapter ends, I will, if my readers will pardon me, place my tribute to Monty Oum. I am no aritst of color and form, but I fancy myself a wordsmith. That said, enjoy.**_

The young man stood at the edge of a small cliff, gazing out over the horizon; he watched as the amber and crimson leaves danced in the winds of Forever Fall, silently contemplating. He hardly moved as the long line of people made its way steadily to the lone tomb, situated in the clearing before said cliff; each individual paying their respects to the man so recently buried beneath it.

The young man sighed. He was by no means the first, nor would he be the last, to mourn the man's loss.

Through the afternoon, the line continued, and all the while, the young man stood, facing the horizon, for what he wanted to say and do, there couldn't be others around, lest his contribution be buried under the vast number of others. As it stood, his words and deed would likely be forgotten soon, anyway, but the young man cared little for that, if at least, he was heard clearly, and alone.

It was well into the night when the line finally ended for the day, due to the possibility of Grimm attacking. That was when he moved, and signaled the young brunette girl to join him, and together, they walked up to the great marble headstone and stood, observing it intently, for the Epitaph read:

**Monty Oum: 1981 - 2015**

**A brilliant artist, a dedicated worker in your art, and beloved by many: you will be missed.**

Finally, the young man spoke. "Do you know why we are here, Blair?"

The brunette girl blinked and look up at him. "No, Richard, I don't. Is this a cemetery?"

"I suppose it is now, considering that there are two graves as opposed to one in the area," Seeing the look of confusion on the girl's face, he continued, "We are here to pay our respects to the man who indirectly brought about our existence. You see, Blair, this man was a true storyteller in this age of emotionless computers. He decided to make something good, and he succeeded. He cultivated it, nourished it, and made it something worth experiencing."

Blair blinked. "But why is he dead now? Was he old?"

The blonde sighed sadly. "Alas, no, he was not. He's older than I am, certainly, but he wasn't even thirty-five when he died."

"Then why?"

"Because, Blair, sometimes God calls the best people to Heaven early. The only way I can reason around it by remembering that everyone must die eventually, and this man, though taken from us early, is an example to be ready for whenever that day comes, and to leave behind a legacy of goodness. He was a good man, as far as I know, and when all is said and done, I can only hope he is at eternal rest," Richard then held up two baby rose bushes; one with red flowers, the other, blue. "Though I knew only of this world I stand in now, Monty, I still appreciate your other work, even if I will never see it.

"May the road rise to meet you; may the winds be ever at your back. May the sun shine warmly upon your face, and the rain fall softly upon your fields; and until we meet again, may God hold you ever in the palm of His hand. Goodbye, Monty, though I never knew you, I knew and appreciated your work. You will be sorely missed, and I pray that your soul may find the eternal rest and warmth of God's love."

With those parting words, Richard and Blair took a small spade, and at either side of the grave, they planted the bushes, gave them water from their own water skins, and left the grave site behind.

* * *

_**Monty Oum, thank you for all your hard work; we loved you, and you will be missed. In fondest memory I will keep you, and in this work, your memory will be honored.**_

_**Signed: Hoenn Master, forever a patriot.**_


End file.
